Savior
by soptastic
Summary: G1/IDWish "Lying beneath the rubble, he heard the voice whisper his name, and he felt a hand brush against his arm. All it took was that one touch for Fireflight to know that everything would be alright; Sandstorm was here - he was saved."


Reposting this as it's own story. A continuation of "Savior" from chapter 1 of the Mini Drabbles (which needs a new title). Inspiration for this came from Iris by Goo Goo Dolls, although what the song has to do with anything here is beyond me. Enjoy the fic! :3

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Fireflight shifted to try and relieve the pressure on the arm pinned beneath him, and whimpered as the rocks above him shifted in turn and pressed down on his mangled wings. He had no idea how long he'd been trapped – although his chronometer was still functional, it only displayed incomprehensible symbols that were constantly changing. He could have been gone anywhere from a few breems to several cycles.

Fireflight was vaguely aware of his body redirecting energy to his core systems, but paid it no mind; he thought instead of his brothers. The jet felt out through the bond he shared with the other Aerialbots – he wanted so badly to hear Air Raid laugh, for Slingshot to tell him what a fool he was, to be wrapped up in the comforting presence of Skydive, for Silverbolt to assure him that everything would be alright – but the pressure of the tons of rock that had collapsed on him was making it hard to concentrate on much of anything. Even the searing pain from his nearly crushed legs was now just a dull throbbing.

He was going to die. Fireflight was coming to realize that fact as he shuddered and coughed up another mouthful of energon, wincing at the pain in his chest. The distress beacon he'd sent out had been weak to begin with and he was rapidly running out of strength to keep it up. He was going to die here, under a hundred thousand pounds of rubble, separated from his brothers, from the Autobots, from Sandstorm-

The jet shuddered again and turned his head so that he could press his forehead to the cool ground. Sandstorm – the Wreckers were due back today after two and a half months in space. The triplecharger had gotten a message out to Fireflight last week to tell him that he was alright, that he'd gotten some amazing pictures of the planet the Wreckers had been stationed on, and that he had missed him. The Aerialbot imagined his lover stepping off of Xantium and felt misery surge through his spark. He would never see Sandstorm again.

The energon loss was beginning to take its toll; his already limited movements became sluggish, his optics powered down of their own accord, any sounds he had been able to pick up before were becoming more and more distant...

A sudden noise caught his attention. He almost ignored it, but instead chose to focus on it – anything to keep his mind from the thoughts of death. The noise was coming from above him; it was a voice, strong and clear enough that 'Flight could tell it was yelling, but his mind was hazy and making it difficult to decipher the words. He heard them as if from a great distance, almost as a whisper: ...-flight...where are you, 'Flight?...Fireflight...

Suddenly the rubble above him was shifting again, and the Aerial braced himself; but instead of pressing down the rock was moving up, away from his body. This alone was enough to confuse the already disoriented jet...until he felt it: a touch, completely different from the weight bearing down on him before; the feeling of a hand brushing against his arm sending warmth throughout his frame. He knew that touch. It was gentle, and soothing, and came from a bot most associated with mindless violence. More of the pressure was relieved from around him and Fireflight felt a pair of strong familiar arms wrap around him and lift him up.

"..San'...storm..." he croaked out, and felt the triplecharger's arms clutch him closer to his chestplate. The Aerialbot forced his optics online and was met with the sight of his lover's face, framed by the glow of the sunset behind them. Behind the optic band, Fireflight knew the Wrecker's optics were wide with worry and trained on his every movement. "Shh," he whispered, "I'm here. Everything is gonna be okay. You're safe..."

Fireflight let his optics offline again, nuzzling closer to the Wrecker and letting a smile spread across his faceplates. For the first time in over two months, he felt completely whole again. Yes, Sandstorm was here – he was safe.  


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...I feel kinda guilty burying 'Flight under half a mountain, but he got Sandstorm back, so, yeah. ;-;


End file.
